


The White Binder.

by Blakpaw



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Assumptions are made, M/M, Unintentional abelism, feels guilty about it later, honestly Hog's being a bit of a dick, mentions of a learning disorder, undefined mental disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 20:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12515824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blakpaw/pseuds/Blakpaw
Summary: Jamison Fawkes is a goddamn genius, but he’s also a fucking fool.





	The White Binder.

It had been a month since Hog had gained the title of bodyguard (read babysitter, apparently) and had the skinny little shit move in with him. Despite having beat up an entire bar for the twerp, he was finding it wasn’t much worth the promise of 50% of some unknown treasure. Rat talked all the time, day and night, even if he wasn’t talking to Hog he still talked, muttered thing to himself under his breath. Now, the only time Hog could enjoy silence was when the twerp started working on his bombs, or opened up this old, dusty, battered off white binder, opened it up and study whatever the contents held. He read it over and over, despite having had it for a very long time, obviously, it was like he could never get enough of it.

His curiosity got the better of him one morning, one of those days where he’d been up for hours, sleepless, and he stalked over to Rat’s work desk (at the time it was pushed into a corner of the house, and the old blue couch was upstairs in the loft, were rat slept) he picked the book up in his massive fingers, and let it fall open in his hands. He felt confusion wash over him, and he flipped the page, and again, and again. It was filled to the brim with… things Hog couldn’t understand, he could make out equations and numbers, blueprints and drawing depicting how to put together all of Rat’s components, a periodic table, drawings of atoms and molecules, and even more numbers and equations.

This was the kind of shit you’d find in a the lab of a chemisist, Rat’s chicken scratch describing chemical reactions in his mad way, words written exactly how they sound instead of how they’re spelt. And Hog… is mad, oh he’s god damn furious, is he really expected to believe Rat understood all of this, and yet he couldn’t even figure out how to use the stove without setting something on fire, despite Hog showing him three or four times how to work it properly. He snapped the book shut and put it down, keeping his face straight even under the mask as he went back off to lay down. He was getting too old for this shit.

The next day, he watched Jamison work, properly this time, rather than fleeting glances before he got bared. Jamison’s hand, flesh and metal, looked like they were practically working on oto pilot, Jamison occasionally glancing at the open page of his battered old binder, but it was very rare. He crafted two halves of a sphere, cut it in half, and began to fill it to the brim with essential components, and his eyes, for once, stayed locked onto something for more than a few seconds, working undisturbed as he was dragged into his own little world.

At the time, with Jamison still being a stranger, he drew the conclusion Jamison in no way couldn’t be a genius, that half the thing he fucked up he did on purpose, why, he didn’t know, but at the time he was confident with his conclusion. It wasn’t until about a year later, he would find out differently.

“You fockin’ expect me to belive you can build this shit,” Mako angrily waves around Jamison’s grenade launcher “ and yet ye can’t even remember the most simple thing’s I’ve focking told ye!?”

“That shoit ain’t easy like this!” Jamison snapped back, hopping up trying to get his precious device back. Mako huffs and chuckles, cold and emotionless, “Easy!? Boy how the fock is this easy shit!? Know men three times yer age who don’t understand this shit!” he snaps, pushing him back, away from the gun.

“S’ just ‘cus they don’t pay attention ya drongo! This shoit is easy ‘cus it ain’t ever change! Iron will always be iron, and gold will always be gold! Evreybody fockin knows that! But you’re shoit is always changin’! No Jamie, ye ain’t do the laundry like that, ye gotta change it to smoll, but sometimes it ain’t on smoll, and only sometimes de ye hang the clothes outside, for fock knows why, and only sometimes we turn the oven up to high! How the fock is anyone ment to rember that shoit if it’s always changin’!?” he snapped, stomping his peg leg in frustration, baring his teeth and his eye wide and wild. Mako huffs, still holding the precious weapon in one hand, the other resting on his hip “It’s focking easy if you focking listen!” that makes Jamie trhash his arms and scream in frustration “I DO FOCKING LISTEN, YER THE ONE WHO DON’T! IT AIN’T CLICKIN’’ WITH ME LIKE THE REST O’ YA DRONGOS, AND IT AIN'T’ EVER GONNA! SO JUS’ GIVE ME BACK ME FOCKING GUN BEFORE I MAKE YOU!” of course Mako, just as stubborn as Rat, refused. It was a very long day for both of them.

Years later, as time went on, he began to find he felt more and more like shit for that day. It became more and more clear Jamie had some form of learning disability, that all the constantly changing components confused him, got him all twisted round until he was so fed up with it not working he wanted to scream. Jamie grew up out here in the apocalypse, and for a long time many of the issues he did have went undiagnosed, and it wasn’t until they got to overwatch they began to learn more about all the mental issues he had, both born with and caused by the PTSD of everything else he’d been through. And even after all those years he still has his dusty old white binder.

Jamie may not always be on top of his game, may not always understand things, but Mako will always remember one thing.

Jamison Fawkes is a goddamn genius, but he’s also a fucking fool.


End file.
